Her Safety, His Love
by QueenCarol
Summary: Carol loves when Ezekiel turns romantic. It is then that she lets him know how much his love means to her and how safe he makes her feel. This is my version of the talk between Ezekiel and Carol where she lets him know why she is growing her hair out. (Thanks to ZM for the inspiration)
1. You Are My Safety

Disclaimer: Carol Peletier, Sophia Peletier, King Ezekiel, Henry, Jerry, Shiva, and any other recognizable character or plot of The Walking Dead belong to AMC Network and Skybound Entertainment, Image Comics and Robert Kirkman. In no way is the author claiming ownage of any of the characters nor is there any economical/monetary gain at any time. The author is extremely respectful of the original creators and is willing to take down this work of fiction if requested. No copyright infringement intended. Original characters are property of the author.

As much grief as she gives her husband for his dramatic tendencies, Carol has to admit that she loves it when Ezekiel turns romantic. She never knows when it will happen but when it does it makes the butterflies in her stomach take flight and flutter around.

It can be something as small as leaving a flower near her face if he wakes before her or finding a bar of chocolate and discretely handing it to her before anyone notices, or it can be as big as organizing a day-long outing where it's just the two of them and they can reinforce and strengthen their relationship without prying eyes.

Tonight he has guided her to the garden, the place they had their first real conversation and has surprised her with a firelight dinner complete with a king-sized chocolate bar that they are currently sharing. She doesn't know where he's found it but she's grateful for it.

The dinner, the chocolate and the fact that she's wrapped up with her husband in front of a fire, have painted a smile on her face and have made her cheeks turn pink but she doesn't care. She's in love, she's happy and nothing can change that.

"What crosses your mind, milady?" Ezekiel whispers near her ear before taking the chunk of chocolate she's offering him between his lips.

Carol turns to look at him over her shoulder, the only way she can look into his eyes since he's embracing her from behind and holding the ends of the blanket together in front of her. "That I'm happy and that I love you very much."

She can see the way her words affect him, pulling a bright smile from his lips that rivals the brightness of his eyes. It makes her heart speed up just to know how much he changes when she verbally reminds him of her love.

"And that I have the best husband I could have ever hoped for." She wiggles in his embrace so that they are side by side with her head resting on his shoulder, her legs over his knees. He leans ever so slightly against her head, his hand sliding to press against her outer thigh, securing her against him. The blanket falls off them for a second which lets air into their cocoon, giving her a shiver and prompting her to curl against him even more.

"Come here." He embraces her fully after catching hold of the end of the blanket and rising it again to cover her. "You only say that because you've discovered I can keep you as warm as any furnace could in the olden world."

She lets out a laugh before shaking her head and swallowing the chocolate she'd had in her mouth. "It's an added bonus," she teases him. "I never thought I would find love, real love, certainly not after Ed." She feels the way he tenses at the mention of her ex-husband. Ezekiel is not a fan of Ed Peletier, not after she told him exactly how he'd given her every mark on her body. She cuts a piece of chocolate and offers it to him then gently smooths her hand back and forth on his shirt covered chest to soothe the anger away.

"Back then I thought I loved Ed. I really did. I even thought he loved me at first. Now I know that was a lie I was telling myself." She leans her head back a little before nuzzling the side of his neck and the bottom of his chin with the tip of her nose. "I adjusted to him, told myself lie after lie, over and over to justify him. Learned to survive his beatings, but I was never in love, not the way I am with you."

Ezekiel turns down to look at her and Carol takes the opportunity to catch his lips with her's, her right hand rising to press against his cheek and pull him closer. She opens her mouth to him just as he twists them so that she can sit on his lap, her back to the fire, the chocolate partly forgotten between them. Her left-hand joins the right in framing his face, her fingers caressing the hair of his beard. His hands raise over her back, smoothing against her clothing as they go, losing themselves in her shoulder-length hair.

Once, a long time ago, that action would have made her tense and pull back or would have made her turn completely still with the knowledge of the danger that lay ahead. Now it just serves to ignite something in her that has laid dormant for such a long time. She kisses him with abandon, enjoying the feel of his lips against hers, of his tongue caressing her's, of his body pressed against her's so tightly.

When she pulls back her lips are bright red, her nose a little chapped by his beard. He chuckles at the breathless look she carries, tracing his finger over her lips. "You deserve nothing less than the best in this world, my love. When our vows were exchanged, I promised to always put your well-being before mine, to love you like no other has ever had the privilege to love you, deeply and with abandon. I intend to fulfill that promise until my dying day."

Carol presses her forehead against him, closing her eyes and relaxing as she feels his breath against her face. The hand that had previously traced her lips tangles once more in her hair but he doesn't guide her to his lips, instead massaging her scalp at the base of her neck. She puts the chocolate bar to the side choosing instead to focus on the sweetness of her husband's presence.

"Did I ever tell you why I decided to grow my hair out?" Carol whispers as she pulls back, her blue eyes seeking his chocolate ones.

"I don't believe you did," Ezekiel replies sincerely but quickly adds. "I love it, just as much as I loved your pixie hair. Though I must admit that I have wondered why it is you've suddenly wanted it long. Why did you decide to increase its length?"

She smiles at him before stealing a quick kiss from his lips, a kiss that has him following her as she moves back. She teases him with a softer kiss, then another as he continues to beg for her kisses.

"Because you make me feel safe." She finally whispers between kisses. Ezekiel stops requesting kisses almost as soon as she voices the reason behind her hair growth. She looks deep into his eyes, simply breathing and letting him feel how relaxed her body is, how there is not an ounce of fear in her body nor an ounce of desire to flee. "At first I thought it was Kingdom that did it, that maybe the place was responsible for the feeling, but when we left to fight Negan... I wasn't afraid, not entirely. I was afraid of losing you, of losing those I loved, but I wasn't afraid for my well being because I knew you were there."

"You do not require a knight in shining armor to battle for you, Carol." Ezekiel reminds her which earns him a nod.

"No, I don't. I can protect myself quite well, thank you very much." She agrees with him. "But maybe I needed a stubborn King behind me to remind me what feeling safe felt like."

Ezekiel raises an eyebrow at her, urging her to continue her tale. "Before, when Ed was around, I started out with long curly hair. Sophia loved to play with it as a baby, would curl her little hands in it. I think the reddish tones caught her attention. I didn't mind when she would pull at it, but Ed... Ed always used it against me. He'd grab hold of it and pull, he'd use it to smash me against the walls, he'd... catch it when I was trying to escape his fists. It got so bad that one day I just decided to chop it all off. I knew that as long as I had long hair I wasn't safe from Ed, so it had to go."

"Low-level scum," Ezekiel whispers under his breath though this time he doesn't tense beneath her. Instead, Ezekiel continues to caress her hair, reverently playing with each strand of wavy hair that caresses her shoulders. She is once more enveloped in love; not quite the same love she felt when Sophia would play with it, but an equally important love that radiates from deep within her for the man in front of her.

"I kept it short from then on. If it was short he couldn't get to me. I could escape at times."

"You will never know that pain again,". Ezekiel promises her even though she already knows she's safe. "You can lay your confidence on my words, my Queen, whoever dares bring grief and pain by using your hair against you will meet the most painful death."

"I know you'll avenge me." She jokes though the essence of her words rings true; she knows that Ezekiel will prevent anyone from hurting her and those he couldn't get to she would deal with herself. "I don't doubt it for a single second. Before, I was able to grow and learn to protect myself, but the danger was always on the horizon so I didn't let it grow much. I was safe but I never felt completely safe. Now... now I am happy and in love and I feel safe, so I asked myself 'why not?' and decided to let it grow as wild as it had always been."

She continues caressing his face, her thumbs sweeping back and forth against his stubbled cheek, her eyes locking with his again. "I know you will never hurt me, you will never hit me, you will never let out your anger and frustration against me. I am safe with you, as safe as I've ever been."

"I would rather die by my own sword than ever lay a hand on you in anger." He promises sincerely, a sincerity that brings tears to her eyes, tears he brushes away almost as soon as they fall on her cheeks.

As soon as her tears have dried Carol claims his lips with hers once more. It's just a press of their lips together, neither moves to make it more than that, but even in its simplicity, the kiss is deep, strong and heartfelt. His fingers tangle once more on her shoulder length hair and she knows right at that moment that she will continue to let it grow.

She would have probably continued making out with him, showing him exactly how much she loves him, if it weren't for the fact that she knows they are being watched. She pulls back once more before tilting her head to the side towards the bushes where she knows someone is hidden. "I would show you how much I trust and love you right this second but our son is hiding in the bushes and that's a conversation I'm not quite ready to have with him."

Ezekiel growls playfully and leans forward, pressing his head to her chest. She giggles and lets her fingers caress the base of his neck where his dreads have parted. "I love our boy, I do, but he's working against his father."

His words only make her giggle a little louder before guiding his chin upward so that she can look into his eyes. "Let's go to our room."

Carol untangles herself from Ezekiel's lap, snatches the abandoned chocolate bar and holds the ends of the blanket around her. Ezekiel proceeds to put out the fire before turning to the bushes Carol had just signaled to. "I trust the happenings of this night will remain between us, my love, but if there is a young lad who has skipped his bedtime in favor for adventuring, I also trust he shall be back in bed before the morrow."

Carol hears a branch cracking under Henry's weight before the sound of his hurried steps rush away from the garden. She shakes her head and turns to look at her husband. From under the blankets she extends an arm, offering her hand to take. "Come, husband," she says in a very theatrical tone. "Let me show you how much I love you, how safe I feel."

Ezekiel doesn't have to be told twice. He reaches for her hand and laces their fingers together. The last anyone sees of the King and Queen of The Kingdom that night is the retreating figures they paint as they go into their home, hand in hand, smiles on their lips.

After all, Carol can be romantic too.


	2. What More Can a King ask For?

He loves her hair.

He's never touched anything as soft as her hair before. The first time he threaded his fingers through it, back when it was still short, he had admitted to it. Carol had stared at him for a couple of seconds, trying to see if he was lying, but he assured her rather quickly that he wasn't. Afterwards, he made a point to always touch it gently, as gently as he could.

Back when it had been short and she'd had the occasional headache, he'd tenderly caress her hair while passing the tips of his thumbs over her scalp. He'd massage her scalp until her eyes would close and her breath would even out. Sometimes he'd get caught between her and the mattress, unwilling to move in case she'd wake up, so he would continue caressing the soft fluff that was her hair, marveling at its softness and its color, specially the parts that showed the color change in one strand.

Then she'd decided to let it grow.

He never questioned out loud why she'd gone with the change, though he had wondered occasionally about it. As her short hair grew, he'd gotten used to waking up with his face covered in it, the scent of her vanilla shampoo filling his nose. The more it grew the more he loved caressing it though he was always quick to tell her that he loved her hair no matter its size because it was a part of her. It always got him one of her bright smiles and a sweet kiss.

But now, knowing why she grew it, brought a whole new level of adoration from him.

Her hair growing means that she feels safe.

His heart thunders wildly in his chest at the memory of Carol telling him that the reason why she grew her hair out was because for the first time in a very long time she feels safe. Safe by his side. Safe in their love. Safe in their marriage. Safe with him.

Upon hearing that her husband had used it to hurt her, to pull her back and hold her in place while he abused her, his very blood had burned in his veins. He wanted nothing more than to have the chance to face him and show him how a man is supposed to treat a women like Carol, but the man is long dead and Carol was quick to remind him of that with a gentle touch, grounding him back in reality, a reality where her hair is shoulder length and she was looking down at him with nothing but love and adoration.

God, he loves Carol, he loves her so much.

He wants nothing more than to make her happy, to keep her feeling safe and loved and if her hair grows all the way down to her back, he will devote time every day of the rest of his life to caress it and show her much it means to him.

Every time he kisses her, he will let his hand lose itself in her hair, his fingers pressing against her scalp without pressuring her into the kiss.

Every time they make love and it cascades over her shoulders and down her back, he will caress it and when it lays on their bed and their bodies cool down, he will play with it between his fingers, making sure to show her that he is not ready to let her go.

Every time he sees it blowing in the wind he will grin and tuck it behind her ear before placing a kiss on her delectable lips.

Every time they share a bath he will take his time in helping her relax under the spray of water, his fingers lathering her hair.

He will worship her hair as much as he worships her because every time he sees it he will remember how her eyes sparkled in the night as she told him of the peace she feels right here in his arms, every time he will remember proudly that he had a hand in liberating her from the bad experience her first husband made her live, every time he will feel like the luckiest man to ever walk upon this earth because she has chosen to walk besides him.

His heart simply cannot contain the slew of emotions he now feels upon seeing her hair; love, happiness, elation, pride for her and complete and utter devotion to her and the family they are forming.

"Good morning." He hears her groggy voice whisper before he turns to look down towards his chest. She's been resting there, sleeping comfortably and securely, her hair fanning over her face and neck and resting on his chest and shoulder.

"Good morning, my love." He whispers before kissing the top of her hair, the vanilla scent instantly taking over his senses. "Were your dreams as calming and sweet as your soul deserves?"

Carol lets out a breath of air that shows her content nature. She snuggles closer to him, burying her face against his pectoral and leaves a tiny kiss on his skin. He can't help but grin at the way she curls her body against his, almost as if she wants to bury herself in him. He'd never imagine that she'd be a cuddler but even then, he is blessed by having someone who will gladly lay with him in bed for hours at end if they are allowed.

"I dreamt of my husband." She admits before pressing a hand over his chest then leaning her head against her hand, looking at him with sleep and love in her eyes.

He knows how lucky he is to be able to see this side of her; this sleepy, happy, and secure creature she turns into whenever they are side by side, a smile always on her lips, her eyes always sparkling. He can't help but marvel in the fact that he has something to do with her feeling secure enough to show her real loving self, even if it just a tiny little bit.

"Really? Who is the lucky lad?" He teases her pretending not to know she dreamt with him.

Carol's smile grows as she quickly catches on to his playful self. "The most handsome man I have ever met. He is strong and loving, knows how to protect his people and guide them through hardships, has the most gorgeous deep brown eyes, knows how to love me and make me feel beautiful..."

"You are beautiful." He assures her quickly before catching a strand of her hair between his fingers and gently tucking it behind her ear.

She scrunches her nose a little in amusement but quickly continues. "He has a beautiful soul and a gorgeous smile and hands that hold me and love me and protect me."

He can't help but thread his fingers through her hair as he pulls her towards his lips. Her hair falls around their faces, obscuring them from the light that filters through their window. They kiss for what feels like an eternity and at the same time never enough time.

When she pulls back, he tenderly tucks her hair behind both of her ears prompting her to press her face to his left hand, delivering a kiss to the palm of his hand. She lets out a little laugh against his skin before lowering herself back to the bed. He takes advantage of the movement to flip them over so that she's laying against the bed and he's hovering above her.

"He's a lucky fellow." Ezekiel muses, sharing a grin with her. "A very lucky man."

"He is." She teases.

Ezekiel laughs, shaking his head at his wife's musings even as he lowers himself halfway on top of her, his head findings its place on her shoulder, his nose buried against the wild hair she's woken up with. There is no way he will ever be able to take in the scent of vanilla and not think of her.

Their legs instantly intertwine as do their hands. Carol places their clasped hands against her breast, breathing in slowly. While most of the time they must leave their bed early, ready to help with whatever inconvenience The Kingdom faces, its mornings like this that Ezekiel thoroughly enjoys, simply being able to welcome the new day at Carol's side.

"I love you." He whispers against her skin.

Carol turns her face towards his, pulling him away from the spot he's claimed as his own. Her lips slowly curl into a beautiful smile as their eyes meet, the smile he adores and lives for which makes her eyes narrow and beautiful laugh lines appear around her eyes. "Yesterday, you told me why you grew your hair and how I have helped make you feel safe."

"I did." Carol agrees with him.

"I want you to know that this knowledge has greatly affected me," he starts explaining. "I've always wanted your safety, from the moment you came home, as well as your happiness. It pleases me greatly that you have found both and I pledge to ensure that no matter what happens, you never feel the need to protect yourself by cutting it again."

"Even if I grow it long enough that it will knot and your face will likely end up covered by my hair in sleep?" She asks, her voice playful. "What if it ends up in your face when we ride together?"

He pulls back enough to rest his head against his hand, elbow digging on the mattress. His hand lets go of hers only to catch a lock of hair between his fingers. He raises it to his lips and places a tender kiss on it before leaning down and kissing her softly.

When he pulls back he only does so in order to reassure her. "Then I will devote my time to help you brush it and braid it if it so pleases you."

She pretends to think about it, playfully raising a hand and pressing the tip of her index finger against her chin, tapping it when she finally reaches her decision. "Then I think I might let it grow a little longer."

He grins before claiming her lips once more, his fingers threading yet again through her hair, losing himself in her in a heartbeat.

It is the end of the world, the dead have taken a hold of it but slowly human's claim it back with sweat, tears and loss. Yet in the midst of that loss he's found something that is so powerful and important that he feels like he is the luckiest man in the world. In the whole scope of the world, her hair's length matters not to many people, but to him it has quickly turned into one of the most important measures of her well-being, along with her smile and her soul filled eyes.

He knows he's a lucky man.

He loves her hair as much as he loves her.

Perhaps more importantly, her hair is evidence that she not only feels his love but returns it in equal measure.

And if he has that, what more can a King ask for?


End file.
